Pretty Sure
by aghamora
Summary: Brittany finally gets around to reprimanding her diary-reading cat. - - Brittany/Santana, oneshot.


"I'm pretty sure my cat's still reading my diary."

Santana rolls her eyes and continues to file her nails idly. She hopes that ignoring Brittany's rather strange statement will make the blonde stop talking about it, for she doesn't want to have to talk sense into Brittany about her cat at the moment.

They both sit on Brittany's pink bed, leaning against her frilly, pink pillows, in her pink room. Santana's sure that she's going to be seeing the world in pink for days once she leaves her friend's room. That, or she'll go totally colorblind.

Pondering this, she files her nails, while Brittany babbles on about something her friend's not really listening to whilst brushing her hair. This topic, however, is apparently of great concern to Brittany, because she leans over and taps her friend's shoulder with her hairbrush to obtain her attention.

"Santana, did you hear me? I said-"

"That you're pretty sure your cat's still reading your diary? Yeah, I did." She doesn't turn to look at Brittany, "You know that's not possible." Her words are a statement, not a question, but she _really_ hopes Brittany knows it not possible.

"But…Dog is a special cat…"

"You named your cat Dog?" She looks over her shoulder with an incredulous look spread out on her features. She's always known Brittany to be a bit bizarre, but now she's just being downright peculiar. And, as far as Santana knows, cats cannot, and have not, _ever _been able to read and, even if they could, they couldn't share her friend's secrets because they _can't speak English either_. She sets her nail file down and swings her legs up on the bed, before crossing them and allowing Brittany her full attention.

"Yeah. I mean, I thought it was a dog first, but then my mom told me it was actually a cat…" She seems unable to comprehend why Santana doesn't understand her reasoning behind her cat's name.

"Wait, is Dog a boy or a girl?" Santana's mystified, and Brittany looks like she's being given a quiz, as her mind is struggling for information like it does on Mr. Schuester's hard Spanish quizzes. After a pregnant pause, she responds uncertainly.

"I think she might be both." Santana cocks an eyebrow, mildly concerned for her friend's mental health for a minute, before speaking again:

"Why don't you just change its name now that you know it's a cat?" Brittany only shrugs in response. The other girl rolls her eyes again and picks up the nail file once more, examining the rough object out of sheer boredom.

Abruptly, a ball of fur finds it's way into the room and hops up on Brittany's bed. Santana jumps as Dog rubs against herself, purring contentedly, before walking over to the blonde and settling it's gray body down on her welcoming lap.

"Dog, you've been reading my diary, haven't you?" The cat keeps purring, oblivious to the fact that it's being reprimanded for supposedly finding it's master's diary, removing it from where it is hidden, and reading it. So, Brittany pulls out her diary from her wooden nightstand to show her cat the evidence she has for the animal's crime, "Don't tell anyone my secrets, okay?" The diary has rainbows and smiley faces and hearts everywhere on the cover, and has 'Brittany's Diary,' written on the front in pink, sparkly pen. Santana rolls her eyes at it when it comes into her view. Brittany obviously doesn't bother to hide what the little book is for, as she doesn't appear to be hiding it from anyone.

And, if cats could read, Santana certainly wouldn't blame them for reading Brittany's diary.

"Aww, I can't stay mad at you, Dog," Brittany begins to stroke her pet's fur gently. One cannot possibly hold a grudge against such an adorable little animal, she's sure. She, unthinkingly, tosses down her journal next to Santana, and scratches her little cat's ear, laughing at the sound of its cheerful purr.

Meanwhile, when she sees that her friend has tossed her diary down next to her, the other girl picks it up and begins to flip through it lazily. Predictably, the thin, flimsy pages are pink as well. She finally stops at a page in about the middle of the book and reads it:

_July 4, 2008_

_I think there's a war going on in Lima! There's been a bunch of loud booms and sparkles outside, and then a lot of yelling. Right now, I'm under my bed. I'm scared, diary. I hope the booms don't come inside. This happens every year. I don't know why! My mom told me it's only a celebration, but who would want to celebrate a war?_

Santana bites back a laugh at her friend's terrified account of fireworks, then skips several pages forward and reads once more:

_August 26, 2009_

_We started school again today. This is bad because I know I'm going to fail Spanish like I did last year. Mr. Schuester keeps telling me that 'Hola,' isn't German, but I don't believe him. I think he needs to study his spelling, because he keeps spelling 'see' like this: si. _

Brittany is totally absorbed in petting her cat at the moment, so she thinks it's safe to continue reading. She's actually quite enjoying reading her friend's confused accounts of her recent days. Though the entries are few and far-between, reading about the world in Brittany's point of view is entertaining Santana. She lets out a low chuckle before flipping to the next entry:

_November 14, 2009_

_Quinn, Santana and I joined some club called glee a couple weeks ago. What's a glee? _

_Anyway, we get to sing and dance, and the best part is that we're supposed to be "spies," like in the movies and stuff. Coach Sylvester told us to bring down the glee club (I don't know what that means, but it sounds bad), but they're actually pretty nice, so I don't really want to do it. Except for this one girl, Rachel. She keeps bossing everyone around, and trying to convince me that she doesn't actually put real animals on the sweaters she wears. I think she's lying._

Slightly bored with this page, she flips to the most recent entry and starts to skim it:

_March 12, 2010_

_I really like Santana, but not like a friend. It's weird. Like, I want date her, like Mike and me dated. I know that's weird diary, 'cause we're both girls. I feel weird. I don't know what to do, but that's okay, because I don't know what to do most of the time anyway. _

_We've been best friends for forever, and I don't think she feels the same way. I need help. Maybe Dog can help me. It's a good listener. _

Santana's brow furrows and her face twists into confusion as she reads the page again, her eyes skimming over the words quickly, in an almost panicked way. She's nearly unable to believe what her brain is making her comprehend. Brittany likes her? As more than a friend? She blinks several times to ensure this is really happening, because, sometimes, her reality is unbelievable.

It's not like she's never felt the same way about her blonde friend. She's had moments in which she has wished for something more with her than simply friendship. But she knows that if she ever openly dates her, it will destroy her reputation and they'll be labeled the 'Dykes of McKinley High,' and that can't happen if she wants to avoid sinking down to the glee kids level. Yet, she's never thought about it seriously until now. She's never had reason to think Brittany would ever like her back until now, looking at the other girls journal, at her revealing words, in her own handwriting. It's unmistakable. She can't avoid it now. It's beyond avoidable. This is happening now, and she can't run away from it.

Brittany looks up from her cat and rests her eyes on Santana, who is staring at her diary incredulously, with a look of concern on her face. Her eyes are wider than she's ever seen them. She's never really seen Santana baffled before, so she's afraid.

"You're not reading about that time I accidentally drowned my neighbor's fish are you?" It had been an accident. She'd never meant to actually hurt Nemo…

But Santana shakes her head.

"Drown… a fish? No…never mind. Uh, I wasn't reading anything." She puts it down swiftly, but doesn't lose the page she was reading. She suddenly feels very nervous, like she's done something wrong. And she has. She's invaded her friend's privacy and discovered something Brittany obviously wanted to keep secret.

She _hates_ how Brittany can make her feel uncomfortable like no one else can. But she _loves_ her childlike view of the world, _loves_ her perfect blonde hair, _loves_ how she cares about everyone without minding who they are or how they appear, and _loves_ how she is free of prejudice; all the things Santana doesn't have or isn't. Perhaps she loves her so much because she herself has grown up before her time, while Brittany still sees the world through an immature child's eye. She's been her protector, protecting her naive friend from the harsh realities of the world. And she's loved every minute of it. If they ever try to date and it doesn't work out, their friendship will be ruined and Santana isn't sure she wants to chance that. She's Brittany's protector and, without her, Brittany is very vulnerable to the mean, cold world out there.

Her friend reaches over and looks at the page her friend was reading only moments ago. Brittany sees what has concerned her instantly, and she pouts, a pout that tugs on the other girl's heartstrings. She knows her friend thinks she's werided out or something, and it hurts her to know that she really seems that way to her best friend (or something like it).

"I knew you'd think it's weird…" she mutters. She hastily puts away the diary and shuts the drawer behind it, utterly humiliated. Both of them sit cross-legged on the bed now, facing each other. Neither of them speaks, and they do not meet eyes until Santana breaks the heavy silence.

"I don't think it's weird." She reaches across and takes the other girl's hand in hers. However, she doesn't link their pinkies together. She decides then, that linking pinkies is a sign of mere friendship, while holding hands in a sign of more than friendship, perhaps even love. And she no longer wants _just _friendship with Brittany.

She wants more. Maybe she's always wanted more but hasn't realized it until now. But now, she knows what she wants and she will stop at nothing until she gets it, like she always has and always will. Because, when Santana Lopez wants something, nothing will stand in her way.

She also decides that, if she can link pinkies with her in public and at school, in front of everyone, then she can hold her hand too, and she can do it without shame. It's not a huge difference, and perhaps no one else will notice except themselves, but it will mean the world to Santana.

"You don't?" she responds. She sounds hopeful. She's happy that her friend hasn't gotten creeped out and left by now because of her confused feelings.

The corners of Santana's mouth pull into a reassuring smile.

"No." She leans forward, and Brittany follows suit, until they are leaning together, foreheads pressed against one another, both still sitting with crossed legs. Santana closes her eyes, and all she can feel is her friend's regular breathing upon her face, and, if she listens close enough, the other girl's heartbeat. Then, on an impulse, she closes the gap between them and presses her lips onto the other girl's. She doesn't deepen the kiss or anything of the like. It is not passionate or lustful or needy. It's just enough; enough to let them both know that all their longing and uncertainty has not been in vain.

Finally, after one of the best moments of their young lives, they break apart. Brittany smiles, and when she sees this, Santana just _has_ to smile back. The blonde's smile is always contagious, and only a heartless person will not return it.

Out of the blue, Dog jumps back up on the bed, after having jumped off it moments ago. It meows and licks Brittany, causing both girls to giggle a bit at the little, affectionate animal. Santana reaches over and strokes its fur tenderly, lovingly.

Because she knows that, whatever happens between them now, she can thank the diary-reading cat called Dog for it.

* * *

**Disclaimer:** I do not, and probably will not ever, own Glee. All the characters belong to their respective owners and this is purely a work of fiction. No infringement intended.

**Note:** Not the best thing I've ever written, but my relatively first attempt to write a non-serious fiction with Brittany in it. Since that fact that Santana and Brittany have slept together is merely implied on the show, it has not happened in the world this oneshot is written in.

Thanks for reading!


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